Bender's Book
by SpiffySquee
Summary: This is John Bender's story of the events that changed him and his life the most. This is a story about Bender's turning point in high school. And this is a story John Bender wrote so he could graduate. Focusses on the JohnClaire pairing. : Chapter 3 up!
1. Cherry Red

A/N: Okay, so I posted this once, and I realized… all I had was the chapter! No funny comments from myself, no disclaimer, no chapter title, and no note at the end threatening people into a review. So, I had to go back and add all of it, o'course! So, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own John Hughes. I do not own the breakfast club. I do not own Claire, Allison, Brian, or Andy. And I don't own John Bender… he just stays here. No, the chains, locks, and him being threatened by gunpoint don't have anything to do with him staying here!

Chapter One: Cherry Red

I didn't want to take high school again. I wanted this to be my last year. I wanted to graduate at the year I was meant to graduate in. But in order to graduate I needed to pass English. In order to pass English, I needed to write an essay on the event that changed my life the most in high school. That's why I wrote this. I guess you could say the whole thing started on Friday, March 23, 1984.

I got another detention for Saturday. Apparently, the school doesn't appreciate the creativity and humor behind false fire alarms. The thing is though; I don't even care about getting detention. I don't keep track of my Saturday detentions anyway. I just show up, and even if I'm not supposed to be there, Dick will come up with an excuse.

I've never really thought that hard about it, ya know? I've just always figured, 'Hey, it's Saturday, gotta go to school and annoy VP Vernon.' Like I said, I just show up. Hell, I practically live there. But why not? It's better than hanging around the house with the broad and the drunk.

The drunk. Pleasant guy to be around… when he's passed out that is. I got home from school today and my dad's sitting on the saggy and torn couch in his boxers and a holey, dirty white T-shirt sipping a beer.

When he saw me walk through the screen door of our tiny little shack- I mean, our humble abode, he began gesturing to me with his beer. No, he wasn't sharing it; he just didn't have any spare figures at the time, because a cigar was taking up the other hand.

Anyway, he saw me and called me by my name, "Boy!" I didn't respond. So he continued with a few other "clever" nicknames he has used on me before, "Good-for-nothing, stupid, boring, lazy-ass, free-loading, son of a bitch!"

That grabbed my attention, 'Best to focus and not get beaten.' I told myself as I forced myself to look into his eyes. I couldn't help but put on a bored expression though. He was too drunk to notice anyway.

"Go fix me car." He said to me, before turning his attention to his hands, and looking confused. As if he was trying to decide whether he should take a swig of his beer, or a puff of his cigar. He tried to do both at the same time, and it didn't work all that well mind you.

I shook my head, rolled my eyes, and quickly exited the shit hole. I made my way over to the garage, walked in, and turned on the solitary light that lit up our entire garage. It actually did a good job too, because our garage was that small. Seriously, it was barely bigger than our car, for god's sake!

Anyway, I had to figure out what was wrong with my drunken father's car, so I hopped in, put the keys in the ignition, and was about to pull out of our mini garage, when I stopped and looked at the dashboard. It was nearly out of gas.

'Wow.' I thought to myself. I took the car to the gas station, filled it up, drove around to check and see if there was anything else wrong (and there wasn't), then I brought the car back and parked in the garage again.

Feeling pretty lighthearted, I got out of the shitty old car. The first thing I noticed was that the light was off again. 'Since when did the folks care about saving electricity? Must be low on money.' I thought. 'Or maybe it's just burnt out.'

I took a step forward, and a shot of pain jolted through my foot. Well, not really pain, more like an annoyance, like a stubbed toe or a paper cut. Anyway, shortly following the pain was a loud crash, and the light snapped on. 'Okay, it's not the burnt out theory.' I told myself, before I saw what was right in front of me.

The whole picture- my dad, standing by the door with his cigar and beer still in hand, the paint can (I guess that's what I hit) a foot or two away from me, and I saw the paint. Cherry red paint had spilled on the floor, splashed on the walls, and even a little on his car.

"Oh, shit." I muttered. This was very… should I say, not good? I just stood there as my father came up to me. I tried to distract myself, anything to keep my mind of my dad. 'Good thing I've got that detention tomorrow.' I told myself. Yeah, that was the best and most distracting thing I could come up with. 'I'll get up before he's up, and leave, and just be gone.'

As I was trying to offer my condolences to myself, my dad started roughing me up, punching me and shit. It lasted awhile before he turned around. I was surprised, 'That was not as difficult as I expected."

But I must have thought that too soon, because only a moment later, I felt a bottle connect to my head, and dropped to the floor and everything went black.

A/N: Okay… that was chapter one. Short, but it sets the stage for the next chapter. So, just so you know… I KNOW if you don't review. I know… I'm a stalker… seriously. I will track you down if you don't review. Lol, just kidding, but you still shouldn't risk it, should you? Anyway, my system goes like this: I don't add the next chapter until someone reviews it and says that they are going to read the next chapter. That way I know someone, somewhere, will be pleased.

Until next time, SpiffySquee


	2. Detention 101

A/N: Yeah, yeah, it's been awhile, I know, I know. But be happy, because I'm posting the next chapter! Yey! Umm, and I'm sorry about the over-a-month long wait. Better late than never though, right?

Review responses:

Gijinka Renamon: Thanks for the review! I think I will update! 

**Dark hearts collide:** Its all right if you don't have anything constructive to say, that means I did a good job! Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Bronze iris: Thanks for the reminder to update! I hope you do read this chapter, and I hope you like it! 

**Brave wolf:** I'll try to keep it up, and I'm very glad you like it! (When I got your review, I was like, "hey, cool. Reviewer!"

**Soda pop Curtis DX: **Well, I'm glad you went through all the trouble for me! To thank you for logging in to review, I changed it so that this time, you don't have to.

**Santa Fe Lover: **I'm glad you will read the next one. No, I won't stop like other people have, but I may take FOREVER to update. Like you have just experienced.

**Dark o'Bender: **Thanks for the review, and glad you like it! Sorry it wasn't all that soon, but I'll try to make it up to you with this next chapter. Not sure if I can though.

**The Tangled Web: **You're right, I did want that review! Thanks for giving it to me! And I think of your story as good as Christmas, cause it is! Everyone who sees this definitely needs to check out "The Breakfast Club: A True Bond?"

TW Basket case: Thanks so much for that nice review Kristen! It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! How can it not, after you used such flattery? I'm glad you like my writing style; I hope I don't disappoint you with this next chapter! 

**Hatori Spring: **I'm glad you like the Breakfast club, and even gladder that you like my story! But what pleases me most is that you are going to read my next chapter! Thanks for the review!

To all my reviewers, and especially to those posted above, thank you so much! Your reviews mean soo much to me, and I'm glad you all took your time to post them! Now, shortly, you'll get to read my story. After you read my disclaimer, that is!

Disclaimer: I still don't own John. He's still here by his own will! And yes, those of you who are wondering, I have moved him. He is now locked in my basement.

And now, almost a page after the I started typing, you dear reader, get to do what you do and read my story! Yey!

Bender's Book

Chapter 2: Some simple facts about detention

I awoke in the morning to find myself in a place where I hope I never wake up again. In my garage. The funny thing about my garage is that it creeps me out. Now, you might be thinking _the_ John Bender, weirded out by his garage? Well, yes. And there is a good reason for it. It smells funny.

I'm just joking about that. Well, yeah, it does smell funny, but I'm not weirded out by it. It's just a smell.

Anyway, as I said, I awoke in the morning to find myself in the garage. Now, that was a very confusing way for me to begin my day. See, I don't know how you normal people do it, but I don't normally sleep in my broken down garage! I just don't!

After I realized that I was, in fact, in the garage, I got over it. I started thinking clearly and I noticed three things, there was a lump on my head, a burn on my arm, and my garage was turning red.

I thought about that for a moment and I shrugged it off. I didn't really care about it, why would I? Worse things have happened, and better things have happened. Why waste energy wondering about the mediocre things in life? It's a waste of time.

So, I headed back to my house. On my way (not a very long way, but a way nonetheless), I slowly began to recall what happened last night, in fractions anyway. I remember the light flashing on and the color red. Everything was red. I remember the paint can, and the bottle. I instinctively had fingered the back of my head when I remembered what had happened. There was a lump, and a few scratches, but nothing too bad. Like I said, I've had worse.

But I could not remember why my forearm hurt. I should've looked at it then, but in all honesty, I was scared. I was scared about what would happen, what I would see. My old man… was not the greatest guy on the planet. Who knows what he would do with an unconscious person?

And so, solving most of the mystery that was last night, I eventually reached my room. I reached my closet and put on my Saturday clothes. This might seem weird to you, the fact that I have clothes for every day of the week. The truth of the matter is though, I don't. I have my Saturday clothes, which I also wear on Monday and Thursday, and I have my other clothes I wear on Sunday and Tuesday. Then I mix and match for Wednesday and Friday. Weird, confusing, and pointless is something all you readers might be thinking, but it's how I am. I was so bored with my life, I planned it down to a point.

Now, you may think I've never been much of a planner, seeing as I never turn in assignments and I never do well on tests, things like that. But, if you care to remember, I do usually have a great story explaining why, or a really good excuse that causes you to be stuck. That's what I plan. I plan my teasing, I plan my pranks, and I plan my excuses. By doing the latter, I plan my escape.

Wait, where was I? There's more to this story. Oh, yes. I got dressed in my Saturday clothes, and put on my coats. Yes, I have two. Surprised? You shouldn't be. See, because winter coats are so expensive, my 'rents have decided it'd be much cheaper for them to just give me their old spring coats. I've got my pops's old denim jacket, and a long gray coat from the lady. I also put on a red scarf, but since this is open record, I'm just going to say that I had _accommodated_ it quite recently.

As I was walking out the door of my room I grabbed three small objects, my wallet (I never have trusted the folks with the small amount of money I had), my sunglasses (Well, I had to make a grand entrance at detention, didn't I?), and my… well, you don't need to know that either.

I was as silent as I could possibly be as I passed my dad's room, hate to ruin the start of a perfectly good morning, and I walked carefully into the kitchen. After I decided it was safe enough, I looked for food in our shabby excuse for a kitchen. All I could find was generic instant oatmeal. I made some for myself, ate it myself, and cleaned up the dishes by myself. Don't be too surprised by my doing of my own dishes, I clean all the dishes from our house, every day. If I didn't, no one else would, and then we wouldn't have any clean dishes, would we?

After I was done, I walked out the door, and headed towards the school. A little background about Saturday detention: it starts at 7:00 and ends at 4:00. That means it is 9 hours long. We are at detention through lunch, and it is normally eaten in the library. Now, dear reader, if you are a very perceptive person, you may have realized that I didn't bring a lunch. That is because I, John Bender, am on the free lunch program at school. And that free lunch is the only meal I get every weekday. On the weekends, I manage scrounge up something to eat, like that generic oatmeal, but I can't exactly bring oatmeal to lunch, can I?

Well, the walk to school was particularly boring, so I'm sure you'll agree with me on my decision to not write about it. I made it inside the library, and I started working on that grand entrance I told you about. I played with a few things on the checkout desk, before picking up one near the end; a packet of hall passes.

I walked over to my seat and kicked some dweeby out of it, before I sat down and put a highly amused expression on my face. A moment later, a girl dressed in black and gray rushed in and walked all the way around everyone to take a seat in the back. The jock in front of me looked at the future prom queen and laughed. She giggled back at him.

I finally took a good look around the room. There were five of us then, a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal.

A/N: Well, you made it… to the END OF CHAPTER TWO! Okay, so I started this chapter with ten reviews, and I need eleven before I even think about posting a new, understand? (I'm laying off the threat this time all for you TWBasketcase!)


	3. Worthless Me

To all of my adoring fans 

**Dear readers: **I am so sorry that it takes me so long to update this story. Hopefully, I will continue updating more quickly over the summer vacation. Unfortunately, I don't have much free time during the school year because I am in soccer, dance, pep band, theatre, speech, mock trial, and I try to throw some snowboarding into the mix over winter break, not to mention I take 4 honors courses… So basically, I pretty much suck at life during the school year, but _hopefully_ I will maintain a good update-rate over the summer! -

**And to anyone who will still read my story:** I truly love you! 3

**Santa Fe Lover: **I'm glad you enjoy my story, and I really hope that I didn't disappoint you with this next chapter.

**Midnight Blue 88:** I'm so glad that you enjoyed chapter 2! I really hope I don't disappoint you with this chapter, and between you and me, I had a harder time writing this one.

**Brave Wolf: **I'm really thrilled that you enjoy the chapters to be more informal and chatty, I tried to write as how I truly thought Bender should be portrayed, and he came out like me, chatty and almost completely unpredictable. I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Dark o'Bender: ** I'm so ecstatic about your reviews! They make me feel so important! I love you!

**Dark Hearts Collide: **Thank you so much for the review! Sometimes, even more than constructive things, we need just a little encouragement and a self-esteem boost, and that's what you do for me!

**Lazaefair: **First off… I thank you for your review, the second paragraph really stated exactly what I'm trying to portray, and I'm so very glad that my story reflects it. But I don't really think that I have a "quota for reviews". Not in the way that some people do. I only ask for one review before I post my next chapter, so I know if the chapter was liked it or if it wasn't. I'd hate to post multiple chapters written in a way that was boring or uninteresting, and I really feel more comfortable after just a little bit of feedback. I don't think that one review total per chapter is ridiculous, and that's all I ask for. I'm sorry if that frustrates you, but it's the way I write. If you don't feel like reviewing in the future, then please don't. But I want you to know that every review I get is very much appreciated. I hope you continue reading my story, I hope you like it, and I hope you review. But it's entirely your choice.

**JB Fan: **I'm so happy that you enjoy my style of writing, and I'm glad you find it suitable for a character like John Bender. It happens to be the only way I'm capable of writing, so I'm glad it fits.

**Witch Goddess: **Finally someone who understands me! You get an extra cookie! (.:.) (chocolate chip) I'm very pleased that you have been excited for this chapter, and I hope I didn't disappoint you with it!

**Dani: **I was a little disappointed with your threat of stalking me… you never did, silly! I was not disappointed, however, to know that you have loved my story thus far. I hope that affection continues through this chapter! -

**TW Basket Case: **I love you. I seriously do. You are my inspiration for writing.

**blank reviewer: **Thank you for the review. I'm glad you like my story. And I like the name you left for me! -

**Sango AR: **I'm glad you like it, and I'm very pleased that it got you to think a little more about the pre-detention John. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

**Libster 59: **I'm happy you love it. I love you for loving it. Maybe the world isn't so imperfect. -

**ANGELS and DEMONS: **Good book, by the way. I'm glad you love it and I hope I didn't make you or anyone else wait too long. But then again, I probably did. Oh well.

**Sky High Fan: **I'm glad you think so! -

**Philipa Aleshre: **I finally did update… just for you. (not really, I updated for everyone… but you are included in everyone… don't worry) I think it is so cool that you read my story, because I clicked on your page and I saw that everything was in Spanish. And that made me getting thinking… hey, I have a bilingual reviewer! Sweet! So thank you so much for reviewing, and thank you so much for enjoying my stories.

**To all my reviewers, especially those mentioned above: **Thank you so much. I couldn't write this story without your encouragement, compliments, and constructive criticisms. I love you all dearly, and I am as anxious to read your next reviews as (I hope) you are to read this chapter. And without any more delay, here is Chapter Three. Yey!

Bender's Book

Chapter 3: Worthless Me

So, where was it that I left off? Oh yes. The beginning of Saturday detention on March 24th, 1984. The detention that changed everything; Mr. Vernon, the entire school, my entire life.

I sat down in my usual seat, and I noticed that most of the regulars weren't there. Jack, Steven… even Becky wasn't there; and Becky had been a regular to detention before I had. It was only Alison and yours truly.

At about five minutes after seven, Principal Vernon came in and looked around at all of us. He spoke, sounding as if it offended him to have to speak with us (or maybe it offended him to speak to me). "Well… well. Here we are. I want to congratulate you for being on time." He said the last sentence with such utter sarcasm; it couldn't have been more obvious if Carl, the janitor, was standing next to him holding a sign that read, "He's sarcastic" in big, bold letters.

The little princess girl decided that things would work out better for her if she interrupted him. This little action showed that she had clearly never been to a detention ever before. She raised her hand and told Mr. Vernon, "Excuse me sir? I think there's been a mistake. I know this is detention, but I don't think that I belong in here!"

Dick decided to just ignore Cherry (that's what I called her from then on, because her hair was as red as the cherries you buy from the grocery store; as red as the paint I spilled in the garage). He continued talking down to us, speaking like he would speak to a group of five-year-olds. "It is now seven-oh-six. You have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes to think about why you are in here. To ponder the error of your ways."

I was getting a little annoyed with Mr. Vernon. It wasn't just that he was being so disrespectful, but he was repeating the same pre-Saturday-detention speech he gives every weekend. To get my annoyance to be felt across the room, I leaned back in my chair, spit, and caught it in my mouth. Maybe it wasn't appropriate, but I don't really care. You get what you give. Dick didn't give any respect, so he didn't get any respect. That's life.

In my head, I started following along with Dick's speech. _You may not talk. You will not move from those seats. And you._ I looked up at him, and sure enough, he was a foot away from my face. "Will not sleep." He said, as if it was a dramatic sentence that would torment me for the next eight hours and fifty-four minutes.

"All right people, we're going to try something a little different today." _Essay._ Was the first thing that popped into my mind. "We're going to write an essay." By "we" does he include himself as well? Because, grammatically speaking, he does.

"Of no less than a thousand words." Is he planning on counting every word of all five essays? And does he honestly expect 1,000 words to fit on one piece of notebook paper?

"It will describe who you are." He said, drawing it out.

"Is this a test?" I asked him. Obviously, I wasn't referring to the essay itself, but rather the topic. _Describe who you are_, what was this, a test of character? It's not as if anything we say will change what he thinks of us. I could imagine the look on his face if he were to ever read an essay of what I thought about myself.

_My name is John Bender Jr. I am an only child, but I've always wished that I had a younger sibling. A responsibility to worry for. A reason to live. Who would expect that? No one, I guess. Maybe that is because no one expects anything from me. I've always been told that I'm worthless, by my parents, by my friends, and by you, Dick. But worse than that: I have even told myself that I'm worthless. I could describe my looks to you, brown hair and brown eyes. I could describe my home environment for you, broken down and shitty. But to describe who I am, well, you already know my answer. Worthless. It takes only one word, not one thousand. But that one word that I would use, would have more impact than any number of words strung together. Because I, John Bender Jr., am truly and utterly worthless. _

I'm going to take a break from my story to tell you something about that paragraph. Yes, it's true. Every word of that was tied in with every fiber of my being. I thought that about myself. But I don't anymore. I feel needed now; I feel important. But I can't tell you exactly what changed me yet; it'd ruin my story. And mine is one that is much too good to ruin.

A/N: Well, there it is. I made the next chapter and I hope it fits. And let me talk to you about something that I have experienced over the months that I spent not working on this story. It's called instant karma. If you do something bad, such as not reviewing, something bad happens to you. I let you imagine or experience (but hopefully you won't) all the terrible things that could happen to you, and after a moment of thought, you should come to the correct decision of not taking a chance with karma. Review please, my homies.


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